


Red Herring

by Luniana



Series: Imagine ClintCoulson Prompts [9]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Editor Au, Fluff, Get Together, M/M, Writer AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-03 03:35:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14560002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luniana/pseuds/Luniana
Summary: Prompt from paperdollkiss:Clint as a writer, Phil as his editor. The mystery novelist extraordinaire generally wows his editor on a regular basis with his books. But how will Phil react when he finds out the romance novelist CB Francis is one and the same and has been wooing him for quite some time in letters.





	Red Herring

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: Special thanks to @spacey-jack for the beta-read on this one!  And thank you to @paperdollkiss for the prompt!

Philip J. Coulson, editor, sat at his desk, chin on one hand, and the other poised over the scroll wheel on his mouse. Spring sunlight filtered through the growing leaves that hung outside the large window at his back and lay across his messy desk. Two of the walls of his office were floor to ceiling bookshelves, often filled with first-editions signed by the grateful authors who had used his services. The remaining wall held filing cabinets which Phil assumed held important documents, he rarely went into them himself, and they were the domain of his assistant.  

A gentle knock on the door to his office pulled Phil out of the world he’d been immersed in so suddenly his back protested the sudden movement, reminding him that he’d been sitting in that position for far too long.

Looking up he felt a wide smile wash across his face. “Clint!” The man standing in the doorway had blond hair arranged into artful spikes. As always he leaned towards wearing dark colours, washed out grey jeans, a well-loved black leather jacket, but with one artful splash of colour, a t-shirt covered in a purple graffiti pattern underneath. Clint’s green-grey-gold eyes danced with amusement at his reception as he stepped inside, Phil jumping to his feet and coming around his desk to greet him properly, before offering Phil a small gift box coloured an ombre that shifted from pale pink to a deep maroon.  

Phil gaped at the package for a moment, feeling himself flush and then quickly pale.  Clint looked concerned when he didn’t take the box from him. “I found it on the doorstep…should I put it back?”

His announcement startled a laugh out of Phil who finally took the box. “No, no, sorry, I was just…it’s nothing.  Thank you.” He waves for Clint to have a seat across from him as he moves back to his own chair.

“That reaction was not ‘nothing.’” was Clint’s flippant reply. “I’m a mystery writer Phil, you can’t pull a face like that over a fancy box and expect me to drop it.”  

Phil chuckled again as he set the box down on top of a pile of manuscripts. “I suppose you’re right.” Phil stared at the box for a moment while Clint made himself comfortable. “Well, as odd as it sounds, I have a secret admirer…of a sort.”

“Not sure why that’s odd.” Clint retorted. “But go on.”

“Have you ever heard of CB Francis?”

“Romance author, works for Red Room Press?”

Phil nodded. “He’s been sending me…love letters for the better part of a year, always in an ombre envelope.” He could feel his cheeks starting to flush as he recalled the contents of those letters. “He’s never hidden who he was, he signed the first letter and every letter after that…but I haven’t been able to get a hold of him! You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to get a call with his agent, never mind his editor or anyone else at Red Room. The one time I managed to get his agent on the phone she cussed me out, I think in Russian? And then hung up on me.” That pulled a good laugh out of Clint. “This is the first time he’s sent a box though…” Phil studied the small box. “Maybe he’s finally ready to talk to me?”

“Sounds super shy, the poor guy.” Clint propped an ankle up on one knee and leaned back. “Afraid you’ll reject him?”

“I suppose…” Phil frowned at his computer screen for a moment. “I mean, as far as I know I’ve never met the guy, but the way he writes…it’s like he’s known me forever…I mean, of course it’s flattering, but at the same time, I just want to talk to him, you know?” He looked up and found Clint looking at him in a soft and understanding way that made his heart ache. “But my mysteries are not why you’re here today.” He smiled. “Your book, holy shit Clint, I’m part way through my third read and I’m still blown away.”  

The conversation moved on to red herrings, character descriptions and timelines. As always, Phil was pleased with Clint’s attention to detail and ability to plan into future books, as well as the one Phil was currently editing. Working with the other man wasn’t always easy, but he knew they had a great working relationship that produced some of the best modern mysteries his publisher (and a few others) produced.  

Once they’d discussed everything from Phil’s first round of edits to the potential publishing schedule both men stood to shake hands before Phil moved to show Clint to the door of his office.  

“Always a pleasure, Clint.” Phil intoned as Clint stepped out into the hall.  

“Thanks Phil.” Clint turned to smile softly at him. “I hope your secret admirer’s finally got the guts to ask you out.” He winked. “Can’t let a man like you get away.”

Phil felt the blush spread over his cheeks. “Yeah, well, I’ll let you know if it happens.”

“I’d like that.” With one more nod Clint let himself out the door.  

Phil waited for the door to close behind his author before taking himself back into his office and the little ombre package. He stared at it for a long moment before finally plucking it off the pile of paper and gently lifting the lid.  

A simple white piece of paper was folded inside and as he set the box down and collected the paper he found a single ticket to the theater sitting beneath it. Glancing at the ticket he was pleasantly surprised to find it’s to The Glass Menagerie, which he’d been trying to think of who might want to go see it with him. Unfolding the paper he found a print out of the confirmation of a dinner reservation for two at his favourite restaurant. Written below the confirmation text in dark purple ink was “Got your message, sorry for dragging this out so long. But if you don’t show for dinner, I’ll know you want to hit the theater alone. – CBF”

Phil couldn’t resist a snort of frustration at the final ‘out’ he’d been given. If Francis thought Phil was going to not show up to dinner and be left wondering a moment longer, he had another thing coming!

*

Phil had finally decided on the ‘just left the office’ look for his date with C.B. Francis. His white collared shirt was open, no tie, and he’d picked a well-worn suit jacket that fit, but was soft and, he hoped, inviting. He showed his dinner confirmation to the maître d’ and was quickly seated at a small intimate booth at the back of the restaurant.  

Phil was checking out the wine selection when he felt someone moving towards him and looked up. To his surprise Clint was there, dressed in a charcoal grey suit with a dark red dress shirt, also sans tie. He smiled bashfully when he knew Phil had spotted him, but kept coming.

“Clint!  Good to see you.” Phil stood to shake the other man’s hand. “Are you here on a date?” Phil glanced over the other man’s shoulder, looking for a table missing one occupant, or a partner following the other man in his direction.

“Technically, yes.” Clint’s smile grew wider as he gestured for Phil to sit back down. “Mind if I join you?”

“Well, I’m actually waiting for someone.” Phil demurred, trying to be polite, glancing once more over Clint’s shoulder.

“I know.” Clint slid into the booth across from Phil, his cheeks pinking slightly.  

Phil was certain his face must have flipped between at least 3 different expressions before he managed to stick ‘wry amusement’, at least he hoped so. “Oh?” he finally prompted while he gestured to the empty seat and sat down himself.

Clint was full on blushing now as he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and sat down. Without a word he passed his driver’s license to Phil. “Clinton Francis Barton.” Phil read out loud. “C.B. Francis and Clint Barton.” Phil looked up at Clint’s blushing face and gave him back the card. “You sneaky shit.”

That seemed to startle a chuckle out of Clint. “I’m sorry Phil, I didn’t mean to do this for so long…” He ran a hand through his hair, obviously still nervous. “I just…was really afraid you’d turn me down. And I guess I was sort of afraid you wouldn’t want to be my editor anymore…if you knew I had a huge crush on you.”

Phil smiled at Clint’s bashfulness. “What changed your mind?  Why now?”

Clint’s smiled widened slightly. “When I heard from Natasha, she’s my agent at Red Room Press, that you’d somehow managed to find her office phone number and called her. She told me what you said, before she started yelling at you, sorry for that by the way.” Clint’s hair was becoming messier by the moment as he kept running his hands through it in nervousness. “She’s still mad that I went to you for my mystery novels instead of the person she recommended from the Red Room affiliate.”

Phil blushed. He only slightly remembered what he’d said to ‘Francis’s’ agent when he’d finally tracked down her number and had her pick up instead of it just going to voicemail. He was pretty sure it was something mildly distressed and ‘I just want to talk to him, please!’  

“And then…earlier today,” Clint looked up from the table. “I went to hand you the box and I watched your face. And it felt like, for a moment you thought your secret admirer was me, and…” he seemed to struggle. “And that was okay, more than okay, you were excited.”  

Phil smiled softly. “You should have said something…we didn’t have to wait for…all this.” He gestured to the restaurant. Clint’s hand ran through his hair again and Phil found himself reaching out and taking it, holding on across the table, watching Clint’s blush deepen.

“Yeah, but I had this whole plan!” Clint chuckled. “Plus, you were working…and I was working…and…I guess I still wasn’t ready.”  

Phil rubbed his thumb against Clint’s hand for a moment. “Well, now that I know who my secret admirer is, and know that I like and admire them as a person, and find them to be very attractive,” He watched Clint’s smile go impossibly brighter. “I guess we can just focus on enjoying ourselves, and getting to know each other even better.”

Clint squeezed his hand. “I’d like that.”  

They talked right up until the moment they would need to dash to the nearby theater to catch the show. They managed to find their seats just before the house lights fell. Occasionally Phil noticed Clint glance at him, checking to see how he was enjoying himself, but the acting was so skilled, the set pieces so beautiful and inspired that Phil couldn’t take his eyes off the stage, though he found himself reaching out and holding Clint’s hand as the actors on stage discuss the glass unicorn.  

They joined the crowd in a standing applause for the actors before filing out, Phil again taking Clint’s hand so they wouldn’t get separated. They stepped outside, pausing at the foot of the theater steps to face each other.  

“I had a very good time tonight, Clint.” Phil smiled warmly.

“Yeah?” Clint’s bashful smile brightened. “Me too. I don’t think I’ve ever actually been to see a proper play, it was very interesting.”

Phil felt his heart warm further at hearing this, that Clint had planned the whole evening with Phil’s own desires in mind, potentially placing himself completely out of his own element. “May I plan our second date?”

Clint perked up impossibly further. “Sure! I mean, yeah, that’d be great.”

Phil took Clint’s hand and pulled him forward for a brief, chaste kiss. “I’ll text you tomorrow and we can pick a night.” He murmured quietly, giving Clint’s hand a squeeze. “Goodnight Clint.”

“Good night, Phil.” Clint almost sounded dazed as Phil let go of his hand and headed home. Phil smiled the whole way home.


End file.
